Lone Wolf
by The Lightning Flash
Summary: Gunther has always be a loner, but when a quest goes horribly wrong, will he learn to ask for help before it's too late? Rating subject to change.
1. Quests and Concequences

**Lone Wolf**

**---**

"A werewolf?" scoffed Gunther. "Surely you don't believe the tales of a few scared peasants?"

He, Jane, and Sir Theodore stood in the castle yard, the hot summer sun pressing down on the sweating squires as they talked to their mentor.

Jane shot him a glare. "Something has been killing their children, and digging up their dead! They have good reason to be scared."

"Indeed," agreed Sir Theodore. "And they have petitioned King Caradock for help. He has agreed to send one knight back to their village, to deal with the situation as they see fit."

Jane stepped forward, and Gunther rolled his eyes.

"Dragon and I can be there and back by tomorrow, Sir, and it would be an honour to protect the –"

"I'm sure it would be, Jane," Sir Theodore stopped her with a wave of his hand. "But Sir Ivon and I have discussed the matter, and feel that this is a challenge that Gunther should undertake."

Both squires gaped.

"P-pardon, Sir?" stammered Gunther. "You wish for _me_ to . . . ?"

"Is there a problem, Gunther?"

"No, Sir, but I thought the King promised a knight. I am still a mere squire." Gunther didn't seem to enjoy pointing out this last fact.

"You are a man grown, almost eighteen." Sir Theodore gazed at him sternly for a moment, before continuing. "Complete this task successfully, learn from it, and you will be knighted after your return."

There was a half-stifled gasp from Jane, who looked shocked.

Gunther beamed. "When do I set out?"

"If you leave today you should arrive before the next full moon."

---

"I did my best, but one silver arrow is all I could manage," Smithy held the reins of Gunther's horse and handed him the weapon. "I made it myself, it's solid silver. It should pack a punch, if you are close enough, but be sure to aim for the heart."

"Do not tell me you believe in all this werewolf nonsense too, Smithy." Gunther raised his eyebrow at the arrow, before tucking it into his belt. Necessary or not, it was too valuable to loose.

"Pig and I saw some strange things during the time we were wandering around, before we came here." The blacksmith shrugged. "I know you have good aim, but take care, all the same."

He handed Gunther the reins, and stood aside as the horse trotted off, towards the villager waiting at the castle gates. Turning around, he saw Jane watching from her tower. She quickly ducked back inside.

---

"A biscuit for your thoughts?"

Jane looked up to see Jester, elaborately holding out one of Pepper's creations, in front of her. She was sitting on one of the swings, and had been deep in thought.

"Thank you." She smiled and accepted the biscuit, and Jester sat beside her.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Jane sighed. "I was just wondering why Sir Theodore would knight Gunther, and not me."

"He said that?"

"He said that if Gunther is successful, and learns something from his task, he will be knighted when he returns."

"Ah, well, not a worry, then. No way will Gunther face up to a _werewolf_." Jester laughed. "Even normal wolves scare him."

Jane sighed. "I wish I could believe that, but we both know that Gunther's aim is almost faultless, much better than mine, these days. If anyone can pierce a werewolf through the heart with a single arrow, he can."

Jester began to protest, but Jane cut him off. "_And_ he is strong. I just thought there was more to being a knight than that."

"You know, Jane, the likelihood of there actually being a werewolf seems pretty small to me, and the chance of Gunther actually learning something seems even smaller!"

"But a knight is supposed to have . . . morals! And honesty, and chivalry, and strength of character, and, and . . . ."

"Jealousy?" supplied Jester.

Jane blinked, and then gave him a sheepish smile. "I suppose I am," she admitted. "I just had hoped . . . ." She sighed. "Never mind. I will be a knight one day, and so help Gunther if he tries to tease me in the meantime!"

"That is the spirit." Jester stood up. "Now pardon me, milady, but I promised the Queen I'd perform for the royal progeny." He bowed, tinkled his hat at her, and danced off.

Jane watched him go. "Thank you, Jester."

---

Gunther returned three weeks later, thundering through the castle gates without so much as a glance towards Sir Ivon, who was on duty there. He rode up the castle steps and straight into the great hall, where the King sat, preparing for the morning audience with the villagers, and where Jane stood guarding him.

Jumping from the horse, Gunther heaved a large, furry heap down with him, dropped it at the floor in front of the throne, and then kneeled before the King.

"Your werewolf, your Highness." He stood again, and it seemed to Jane that he had grown.

His horse, feverish with fear and finally free of its terrifying burden, bolted back out the wide doors and into the garden, where Smithy caught it.

The King blanched, and Jane turned her attention to the werewolf. It was hard to look at. If she stared at it, it looked like a large wolf, but in the corner of her eye she might see a human hand. Then if she focused on that, it would become wolfish, and what she had just looked at would turn human in the edge of her vision. One certain thing, though, was the shaft of sliver protruding from its chest. That and the smell.

"I got it mid-turn," Gunther was saying. "That was the only time she was distracted enough."

"She?" asked the King. "It was a woman?"

"Yes," replied Gunther, shortly.

"Uh, very good. Very well done. I am sure the villagers were most grateful." The King ignored Gunther's grunt at this last statement, and continued. "Now if you would just take it away and find somewhere to bury it, I would be most grateful." He paused. "Uh, it will not come back to life, will it?"

"No, Sire, the beast is well and truly dead." Sir Theodore entered from the far end of the hall. "Well done," he said to Gunther. "And what did you learn?"

Gunther picked up the corpse as though it weighed nothing at all, as though it _was_ nothing at all, and turned to go.

"Do not trust a woman."

---

**A/N: You guys have all been pretty decent about the concrit I've offered, so I guess now it's time to give you the chance for revenge. :)**

**Lashings of thanks to KrisEleven, who has patiently read and re-read my fic, and tried her hardest to decimate my fears. This first chapter is dedicated to her.**


	2. Discussions and Decisions

**I forgot to include a disclaimer in my first chapter, so here it is: Jane and the Dragon is (C) Martin Baynton, Weta and Nelvana. I neither make nor expect to make profit from this fic.**

**---**

"Oh, what is that vile stench?" Jester held his nose. "Rake, have you playing in the dung again?"

"Now, now, Jester," said Pepper, placing the evening meal on the table. "That is the smell of a conquering hero." She nodded in the direction of Gunther, who was leaning against the wall just inside of the archway and tearing into a leg of chicken. She lowered her voice to add; "He spent this afternoon burying that, that _thing_, and has not even changed his clothes!"

Everyone seated at the table shuddered, including Jane. That thing had _stunk_.

"He must have ridden his horse hard all the way back," said Smithy, softly. "It took ages to calm her and clean her down, and she has slept ever since. It is strange; he has always treated his horse well."

"Is it just me, or is he scarier?"

All eyes turned to Rake, who blushed. "Well _I_ thought so."

"I can tell you one thing that has not changed," muttered Jester. "His attitude. Look at him over there, glaring at us."

"I am sure he is just tired. He probably had a very difficult time . . . ." said Pepper, hesitantly.

Jane was barely listening. At Jester's remark, Gunther had pushed away from the wall, almost as though he had heard. He stood there, fists clenched, for a moment, before spinning on his heel and walking into the training yard.

"Evening, all."

Dragon's loud greeting broke Jane from her observation as he landed on the wall.

"Can I smell wolves?"

---

The next few days passed uneventfully, and life in the castle plodded calmly along. Jane heard no mention of Gunther's knighthood, despite the unusual vigour with which he attacked his training. He left the practice dummy battered and groaning on its springs, and Jane was almost grateful he'd decided not to spar with her.

She gave the dummy an experimental poke with her wooden sword, and, when it failed to bounce back up, decided to practice archery, instead.

"Smithy? I think Sir Dummy is in need of some assistance." She called to the blacksmith, who grinned at her.

"I noticed he was getting a beating earlier." Smithy shook his head in mock defeat. "He should know better than to pick fights with you two."

Jane laughed, and went to fetch her bow and arrow.

---

Gunther was leaning over the wall, gazing out into the harbour, deep in thought.

Jane, walking to her tower, stopped when she saw him, and he nodded at her briefly.

"Uh, Gunther," began Jane, hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

He frowned at the question. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I suppose." Jane turned to go, but Gunther stopped her.

"Thank you, anyway," he said with a brief smile, and then straightened up. "I am going for a walk, I may be back late."

Jane nodded, and then entered her tower. Gunther waited until the door was closed, and then jumped over the wall.

---

"Very, uh, _nice_ cave you have here, Dragon."

Dragon turned from the rune-covered wall he'd been studying, and frowned at his visitor.

"What do you want, shortlife?" he growled. He wasn't sure what to think of Gunther, who was confusingly likeable and detestable at the same time.

"I was hoping to ask a favour, actually." Gunther stepped into the cave.

"Oh, well, life is full of disappointment," retorted Dragon.

Gunther continued, ignoring him. "I need to spend tomorrow night here. Preferably in a deep cavern, without, heh, a leaky roof . . . ." He trailed off under Dragon's glare.

"Gotten into a spot of trouble, have we?"

"No! I just thought it would be very good training. Toughen me up for life on the trail that sort of—"

"I have a very large nose, shortlife," Dragon rumbled, darkly.

Gunther, whose current view of the world contained nothing _but_ said nose, nodded. "I had noticed that."

"It's a very _sensitive_ nose. It notices things that most shortlives cannot. The scent of wolf, for example, on a boy who should not smell of wolf."

Gunther sighed, and sagged visibly. "Please do not tell anyone?"

"I have not told Jane yet, but I do not like keeping things from her."

"They will kill me if they find out!" Gunther yelled, clenching his fists and straightening up. "I can sort it all out, I just need some time. I have everything under control."

"Which is why you plan to hide in a cave during full moon?" Dragon smirked.

"Yes! No! Exactly!" Gunther grit his teeth, and took a few steadying breaths. "If I stay in the cave, it can not get to me. I am not _letting_ it get to me!"

Dragon smirked. "Why not?"

Gunther looked shocked. "Because it wants to kill people, _eat_ people! How can I let it do that? I have sworn on the knights' code of honour to protect the people, not eat them."

"At the cost of your own life, was it not?"

The squire sighed again. "If it comes to that . . . yes. But I will try my hardest to find a cure, first. I just need to find a wizard."

"The king has a wizard," Dragon pointed out.

"Yes, and he is loyal to His Majesty, I cannot trust him not to tell. No, I shall wait out this full moon, and then I shall go on a quest. And I vow not to return, nor to accept knighthood until I am cured!"

The oath echoed around the cave, before dying away. Gunther lowered his raised fist a little sheepishly, but defiantly. Dragon simply shook his head.

_I don't understand these shortlives . . . ._

---

"A quest?" asked the King, intrigued.

"Yes, Sire," confirmed Gunther, once again kneeling on the floor before him.

"Whatever for?"

"A cure, my liege. For werewolves." He heard a few quiet gasps, and was aware of Sir Theodore's intense stare from the corner of his vision, but remained focused on the King.

The King looked nonplussed. "Why would you want to do anything for those evil creatures? You yourself saw what terror they cause."

Gunther briefly closed his eyes; this was the crucial bit. He looked up and caught the King's gaze in his own steady one. "Werewolves _are_ evil, Sire, and I wish to do nothing for them. But the people they use are not; they are victims just as much as anyone the werewolf kills. Perhaps more so, as they are the ones who must live with it. I have sworn to protect the innocent, but how can I? A cure would be a far kinder weapon than a silver arrow."

The Great Hall settled into silence as the king thought, and Gunther once again closed his eyes. If there was one thing his father had taught him, it was how to sell something. If this didn't work, Gunther was all too aware of the other option, and he was not willing to fall on his own sword just yet.

He had resisted the beast, shut away in a dark cavern by a huge boulder, away from the moonlight. And it had _hurt_, more than any pain Gunther had known, as though his entire body wanted to turn inside out. But he had resisted, hadn't forced his way into the night, and hadn't let himself turn. But that was only his first full moon, and every day he could feel the wolf inside him grow stronger, storing up its power and rage for next time. He couldn't let it get out.

"Sir Theodore, I wish to discuss this with you."

The King's voice broke through Gunther's thoughts, and he stood.

Everyone else in the hall was dismissed, and Gunther stepped out into the warm sunlight to sit on the stone steps.

He heard footsteps, and turned to watch as Jane walked towards him. She stopped a small distance away and said nothing, so Gunther turned away and stretched out in the sunshine.

It was a beautiful day, and the stones were warm against his back. He felt almost as though he had been wrapped in a warm, soft cocoon, like a baby in a woollen blanket, and sleep was calling him.

_A sudden intake of air; she is preparing to speak. Noises from the village; carts, horses, people, too many others to name. Dogs in the yard. A bitch is in heat, and they are all restless. Scent of dragon on the wind, and human nearby. Strong, but not strong enough. Young, tender flesh, smells good . . . ._

"That was a . . . _nice_ thing to request, Gunther."

Gunther jumped up and grabbed the wall beside him. It had almost had him. Middle of the day and it almost got him! It was lurking, waiting, _grasping_ at the corners of his mind, and that was terrifying to know.

Everything had been heightened since . . . since the bite, but never to that extent. It _was_ getting stronger.

"Gunther?"

The corner of the stone he'd been gripping crumbled slightly, and Gunther quickly released it. He turned to Jane, and tried to keep his voice steady.

"Surprised?"

"Not so much surprised as confused," she admitted slowly. "It seemed as though you hated the one you brought back."

"For her it was a power thing. All that strength was worth the occasional uncontrollable murderous rampage."

Jane grimaced slightly. "What makes you so sure it is not like that for all the others?"

Gunther smiled weakly. "Gut instinct."

Any further questions Jane may have had were cut off by the arrival of Sir Theodore, and Gunther was grateful.

At least now he'd find out if he got to do this the hard way, or the harder way.

---

"King Caradoc has agreed that you should go on this quest," began Sir Theodore. "However," he continued, before Gunther could so much as heave a sigh of relief, "There are conditions."

_Conditions. Damn. _But Gunther would agree to anything, so long as he could go.

"Jane is to accompany you."

Almost anything. "Jane? But . . . it could be dangerous! Or pointless! There is really no sense in wasting two knights when one will do, and Dragon would never agree to let me travel with him and—"

"Dragon will stay here," Sir Theodore cut him off sternly.

Jane, who had been glaring at Gunther, gasped. "But Sir Theodore, why? He will never agree to it!"

"Because the castle needs protecting, and this is a task where one needs to keep close to the ground to notice things. It may be, as Gunther says, dangerous, pointless, or both. It will serve as good training for you both." He gazed at the two of them, daring them to argue.

Jane nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Sir. I shall try to convince Dragon."

"Very good," said Sir Theodore, and shifted his attention to Gunther.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Indeed." The old knight paused and studied Gunther for a moment before continuing. "I believe I promised you a knighthood . . . ."

Gunther took a deep breath. _I'm going to regret this._ "With all respect, Sir, I would like to finish this quest first."

Jane gasped, and even Sir Theodore looked shocked.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Sir. I made a promise, and I would like to see it through."

"I cannot say that I understand your decision, Gunther, bit I will respect it. I hope your journey is a fruitful one."

---

Gunther stood outside the tower, a cloth-wrapped bundle held gingerly in one hand. The shutters of the window were open, permitting entry to the gentle breeze which cooled the hot summer night. He could just make out Jane as she slept, covers tossed aside and one arm hanging off the bed. She sighed in her sleep and rolled over, and Gunther stepped quickly out of sight.

He waited until her breathing had evened out again, before placing the bundle on the windowsill and stepping back a few paces.

"Sorry, Jane," he said softly. "But I just cannot risk it."

Then, after a final glance around, he spun on his heel and sprinted away from the tower, the castle, and the village.

---

**A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews, they're very much appreciated. I try to answer all non-spoilery questions. :) Thanks again also to KrisEleven.**


	3. Anger and Arrows

---

Jane marched down the mountain, fists clenched at her side. It was a beautiful day, and she would have been enjoying the walk were it not for her mood. She had risen before everyone but Pepper that morning and set off up the mountain, to talk to Dragon.

Jane growled to herself as she remembered how that conversation had gone. Dragon had been even less reasonable than usual, and when she had refused to turn down the mission, he had exploded. When empty threats and yelling had failed, the big lizard had started sulking, and refused to talk to her. Jane had eventually given up and turned to go, at which point he seemed to change his mind, and tried to talk her out of it again, but Jane, her patience sorely tried, had refused to listen.

"Not even my mother is that ridiculous," seethed Jane. "He must realise there will be duties that he cannot perform with me."

Sighing and unclenching her fists, Jane turned her mind towards the quest that Gunther had suggested. She was still baffled as to _why_ he had, but she would do her best to make it successful.

_What time are we supposed to leave?_ Jane glanced up at the sky. It was still quite early in the morning, but Gunther would probably want to leave before the heat of the day set in. She began jogging in case she was keeping him waiting. The last thing she needed was to start this trip on a sour note.

---

"Jane, there you are!" Jester ran towards Jane as she entered the castle yard, slightly out of breath. "I thought you'd left with Gunther, but Pepper said you'd been in the kitchen this morning . . . ." He looked relieved to see her.

"Left with Gunther?" asked Jane, puzzled. "Has he gone already?"

"No one has seen him since last night, and Sir Theodore is fuming," Jester paused before continuing. "It looks like he wanted to take this quest alone."

"He _what_?" Jane spun on her heel and began running towards her tower. "Have Smithy ready a horse for me, I shall ride until I catch him up!"

"That is the other thing," began Jester, but Jane was out of hearing. He sighed and turned for the stables.

---

In her room, Jane grabbed her sword, stuffed a change of clothes and a few supplies into a leather sack, and turned to go, before noticing the bundle on her bed. It had been on her windowsill when she woke up, but to Jane it had simply looked like a rolled up shirt. She'd tossed it aside for inspection later, and then forgotten about it.

Worrying her lip, Jane glanced at the door before scooping up the roll of cloth. It was the grey colour that Gunther wore, and now she thought about it there was a certain weight to it.

Unrolling it, Jane saw that it was one of Gunther's shirts, and it had been wrapped around . . . .

"A silver arrow?" Jane frowned, glanced at the door again, and then stuffed the arrow and shirt into her sack and ran out of the room. She would have to think about it later.

---

Smithy stood by the gate, holding a horse by the reigns. Sir Theodore, Pepper and Jester stood beside him, Pepper with a small package.

"Breakfast," she said, handing it to Jane. "You have not eaten yet today and you need to keep your strength up. There is more food in your saddlebags."

Jane thanked her, and then inclined her head briefly at Sir Theodore before mounting the horse.

"Take care, Jane," he cautioned her. "This is all becoming quite strange."

"Yes, Sir," she promised firmly. "If I ride through tonight, I should be able to catch up with Gunther, assuming he stopped to rest his horse."

"That is the thing though, Jane!" Exclaimed Jester, agitatedly. "Gunther didn't _take_ his horse!"

Smithy nodded up at Jane. "She is still in her stall. In fact," he added, almost to himself, "He has not been near her since he got back."

"He is on foot?" Jane frowned. "Then I should catch him today." She looked at Sir Theodore. "Shall I bring him back, or . . . ?"

"Complete the quest if you can, Jane, but return if you need to. Do not take unnecessary risks."

Jane nodded, and then looked towards the mountain. "Can someone tell—"

"I will be sure to let him know, Jane." Jester smiled at her.

"Thank you." Jane took the reigns from Smithy, and then took off at a trot, breaking into a gallop once she was past the village.

If Gunther thought he could leave her behind, he had better be ready to think again.

---

It was never really the best idea to travel through forest at night, Jane knew, but she had yet to find Gunther, and the weight of her sword on her back reassured her.

She was confused, though, as to how she could have failed to find him. He was on foot, while she had a horse, and this was the only direction he could have come. There was only one road leading away from Kippernia Castle, and although it eventually branched into two smaller roads, one of those simply led to the distant little Shale Village, and no further. Unless he had gone across the county-side, which made no sense.

_No, he has to have come this way._ Jane mused. _Maybe he saw me coming and hid until I passed. He could be_ following _me._

She slowed her weary horse and debated turning back when a howl echoed through the trees.

_Wolves_. Jane cursed as her horse whickered nervously beneath her. There would be no point in turning back now; she was more than halfway through the forest. She could make out the sudden break in the path ahead, where the forest ended in a deep valley, and any traveller who wanted to cross had to follow the side until the ground levelled out. There was an inn down there too, she was sure.

"Calm down, boy," she spoke softly to the horse, leaning forwards to pat its neck. "We will get down there and stop for the night." _Maybe Gunther has done the same_, she added to herself.

There was another howl, and it sounded closer. The horse shied away from the noise, and Jane nudged it forward.

"Not far now . . . ."

Five wolves jumped from the gloom of the trees and onto the path, snarling as they began surrounding the horse. Jane drew her sword and slashed at one as it leapt for her horse's throat, but several others jumped forward, snapping at the larger animal. With a terrified scream, the horse kicked out, knocking one of the wolves back before darting forwards, leaping over the wolf Jane had struck down and tearing towards the end of the path, and the valley beyond.

Jane gave a wordless cry as she tried to stop the horse, but the animal would not be halted, and the last stretch of ground rapidly vanished as it leapt out over the ravine.

Jane's heart seemed to stop as the horse made the leap, but then her head took over, and she quickly jumped from the saddle, throwing her sword ahead of her as she twisted in the air and reached back towards the valley wall with both arms.

She hit the edge with a thud and a flash of pain, and scrabbled for purchase on the loose stones of the path. Most of her upper body was on the flat ground, but the rest of her hung over the edge, and she couldn't get a grip . . . .

There was a distant crash, and Jane knew her horse had hit the ground. She closed her eyes and grimaced, trying to focus through pain and horror and grasp the ground. She could feel loose stones cut at her fingers, but ignored them as she continued to struggle.

There was a menacing growl, and Jane looked up to see a wolf stalking towards her. Her sword was lying on the path in front of her, but if she reached for it then she'd lose hold. She closed her eyes again, trying to keep calm and sort through her options, when a yelp made her open them. The wolf disappeared in a blur of dull colours, and she could hear the sound of a fight as the other wolves turned towards their attacker.

Jane tried to see what had happened, but lost her hold and slid over the edge.

---

**A rather short chapter, this time, sorry. And a cliff-hanger, too. Again, thanks to KrisEleven, and anyone who's reviewed. Even if I don't reply to your review, I really do appreciate it.**


	4. Wolves and Worry

Jane, covered in dust and scratches, cold, tired, and sore, was holding onto a bush for dear life. She'd only slid a small distance before the plant had presented itself, but a few moments scrabbling with her feet revealed that there didn't seem to be any other vegetation to use as footholds to climb back up. Remembering all that Sir Theodore had told her about remaining calm in battle, she held on and listened to the fight that went on above while she sorted through recent events in her head.

Going by the noise, the battle was currently in the wolves' favour, and it seemed they were battling a human. The moonlight was still strong after the recent full moon, and the muted colours of her rescuer had looked very familiar. It had to be Gunther. Jane wasn't sure what to think of this, but right now she didn't care. If he could shake off the wolves long enough to give her a hand, then maybe they could make an escape, or climb a tree or something. Jane grimaced at this thought, as the pain in her side pounded. _God's blood! Damn horses!_ She knew she rode Dragon for a reason.

"At least _he_ can keep his head in an emergency. Not even a horse should panic so much over a few wolves!" She ground out angrily, as spiky leaves brushed her cheek. _And what will I say to Smithy . . . ?_ She deflated slightly at this thought, imagining the look on her friend's face, and cursed again.

"Worry about that later, Jane." She reminded herself, as the bark of the bush rubbed against her hand, and her grip began to loosen.

The scuffle above wasn't sounding too good, either. If it went on much longer then Gunther would grow tired . . . .

There was a growl, much deeper than she thought a wolf could make, and intensely angry. Jane felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle, and shuddered as she adjusted her hold on the bush, once again scrabbling for a foothold. She really had to get back up there, before something happened to Gunther. Even though this whole situation was his fault, she couldn't really wait around while he got himself killed.

The growl faded, and Jane could hear Gunther let loose with one of his war cries. _The one he uses when he's feeling over-confident_, Jane thought distractedly, busy dragging her knee up underneath her, attempting to wedge it between the base of the bush and the valley wall. She eventually succeeded, and paused to listen, breathing heavily.

The wolves were . . . whimpering, and yelping, and it sounded for all the world as though they were _losing_. Jane frowned in confusion, and began hauling herself upwards, towards the bush, until she was crouching on one leg, the other braced against the dirt wall. She clung to the bush with one hand and the wall with another, while the fight above came to an end with one final thud, and silence seemed to spread through the entire forest. Noises that Jane hadn't even realised she'd been hearing ceased, until all that was left was her own breathing. She assessed the situation, and realised she wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry, except maybe down. There didn't seem to any wolves moving around above, although she couldn't hear a person, either.

"G-Gunther . . . ?" She called out, her throat dry from dust. "Are you there?"

There was a scrambling noise, and then Gunther's face appeared above her, pale in the moonlight.

"Jane," he panted, extending a hand towards her. It was covered in blood.

She stared at it in confusion, until his voice snapped her back to reality.

"There is a time and a place for being squeamish, Jane, and the when and where are _never_ 'hanging over the edge of a cliff'," he pointed out impatiently.

Jane blinked, prepared to snap back angrily, before shaking her head and reaching out a hand.

His grip was slick, but he reached down his other hand and grabbed her sleeve, and hauled her up easily.

They both lay on the path, panting for breath and clutching at their sides, for quite a while. When her heart had stopped racing and breathing had become easier, Jane turned her head to look at Gunther, confused. How could he possibly have survived that?

Beside her, Gunther looked her over quickly. "You are uninjured?" He asked, his voice thick.

Jane nodded. "Only a few bruises."

She sat up slowly, keeping her back to Gunther as she gingerly touched her side. It really hurt, and a wave of dizziness washed over her as she stood.

Gunther had risen to collect both his sword and hers, as well as the bow and arrows he had tossed into a bush, but turned as she hissed in pain.

"Liar," he said dryly, although Jane thought that he might have looked concerned.

He gathered the weapons, sheathing his own sword and slipping Jane's back into the sheath on her back, before lightly gripping her arm.

"We should keep moving," he said shortly. "There's an inn down here."

Jane was burning with questions, but a quick look at the long path ahead smothered them in tiredness. Questions would have to be asked later, but they would be asked. Jane would make certain of _that_.

---

The two walked in silence for a long while, Jane stumbling occasionally and Gunther not letting go of her arm, worried she'd fall.

She didn't look too good, all scratched and holding onto her side with her free hand. Gunther, who was by now feeling fine, if a little tired, felt guilty.

_So much for my backup plan, _he sighed to himself. He'd never been that great at strategising, after all, and Jane was, well, Jane.

"Should have known," he muttered to himself.

Jane gave no indication of hearing, and Gunther continued on in silence, keeping his ears open for signs of any more wolves, although he doubted any more would try anything. Hopefully the bodies he'd left behind him would be warning enough.

Gunther suppressed a shudder as he remembered the fight, and the feeling as the wolf inside of him had almost taken over. He'd been losing, badly, and the werewolf had seemed desperate to fight the wolves, almost as though it was clawing at his mind. Gunther supposed he had eventually relented, although he wasn't entirely confident he _had_, and the werewolf had grasped at his moment of weakness, almost turning him.

He'd stopped it in time, but only just. Gunther had always been dimly aware that he could chose to turn at any time, day or night, full moon or no. He'd just never imagined that he _would_.

The Wolf had been furious, and the feeling had been dreadful as it struggled again, but Gunther had refuse to relent, and eventually it snapped, sending forth a wave of strength so intense that Gunther had almost been overwhelmed, before some instinct kicked in. He'd thrown away his sword after that, and the wolves hadn't stood a chance. He'd attacked, disgusted at himself even as he ripped them apart, both awed and ashamed by the rush of power. His senses had been heightened ever since the bite, but it was nothing compared to this. And the _strength_. No knight could match him with strength like that . . . .

Gunther growled quietly to himself and turned away from the thoughts. _I will not be tempted!_

Beside him, Jane winced as his grip on her arm tightened, and he quickly removed his hand under her glare.

"Sorry, sorry."

They stepped out of the last of the trees, and into the light pouring out of a window of the inn. Gunther sighed in relief and turned towards the door.

"Are you injured?" Jane asked suddenly.

Gunther's hand flew automatically to the wound in his flesh, between hip and ribcage. But of course she couldn't see it, and any tears in his clothes no longer had the accompanying tears of flesh.

"Nothing to worry about," he said lightly, and put an end to the conversation by knocking on the inn door.

---

It had taken some time to convince the Innkeeper and his wife that they weren't a pair of mass-murdering madmen, but eventually the story of the wolf attack, heavily edited, and the clink of coin in Gunther's purse won them over. The woman had helped Jane upstairs, and treated her wounds. Apparently they weren't too serious, just so long as she rested for a few days. Gunther wasn't sure if that was actually true, or if the Innkeeper was just hoping for some more money.

It had been a long and restless night, in an uncomfortable bed and a fetid smelling room, but at least he was clean. He sat downstairs by the fire and waited for Jane to wake up. He'd debated taking off and leaving her again, but she'd just follow him, and now she had no horse, and no supplies. There were times when Gunther knew he should listen to the nagging, guilt-inducing feeling in his gut, and this was one of them.

He knew taking Jane could lead to problems, such as how to travel without a horse. Horses had been scared to death of him since he'd been bitten, and he'd had his work cut out just riding his once faithful steed home.

But Gunther also knew those problems could be overcome. If they travelled by foot during they day, at walking pace, then once Jane fell asleep at night he'd be free to roam around until dawn, searching for the cure and maybe hunting for something to feed both of them. The difficulty lay in the possibility that they might not have any success before the next full moon, and then the situation would get a little on the desperate side.

"Morning, Gunther," said Jane, halfway down the staircase.

His ears had picked up the tread of her feet, and he'd smelt her, but Gunther had been so deep in thought that her presence hadn't really registered. He stood and smiled at her briefly.

"Feeling better?"

"A good deal better than I might be feeling at the moment, thanks to you, I suppose." She grimaced slightly as she stepped away from the staircase, but Gunther doubted it was her side that caused it. "On the other hand, if you had waited for me yesterday, then none of this would have happened."

Gunther sighed; he should have known. "Whether we travelled together or not, there would still be wolves lurking in the woods, Jane."

"But perhaps they would be less eager to attack two than one. Here." Her hand moved quickly and she tossed a piece of grey cloth towards him.

Gunther raised his hand to catch it, only remembering at the last minute what it had been used for. _So she found the arrow._

Jane continued to talk in a slightly cold tone. "It was at the top of my sack, and it got covered in dust, so Mrs. Ploughman washed it." She frowned at him, but said nothing more about his unusual parting gift, for which he was grateful. "I lost my money and supplies with my horse, so you will have to buy some food and pay for everything."

She fixed him with a glare before turning towards the kitchen, and Gunther sighed. Apparently she felt he owed her.

---

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys. Thanks as ever to KrisEleven, and all reviewers.**


	5. Travel and Troubled Thoughts

**Jane and the Dragon and all characters is © all sorts of people who aren't me. This fic is mine, though.**

Jane watched as the Innkeeper and his wife argued with one another while Gunther loaded bread, cheese, some fresh garden vegetables, a small flagon of ale, and an small and ancient-looking pot onto a blanket. He'd folded the blanket into a neat bundle by the time they seemed to reach an agreement, and named their price. It was far too high, but Gunther simply nodded and pulled out his purse.

Jane frowned. _Surely this is not the son of Magnus the Merchant!_ Gunther would certainly have known the value of every item in the blanket, and could probably have haggled until they were down to a fraction of their true cost. _Perhaps he is just in a hurry to leave._

The coins clinked as Gunther placed them on the table, and the Innkeeper snatched them up eagerly.

"If you wait just a moment we can get what we owe you back," he said.

"Do not bother," Gunther replied shortly. "We appreciate your help."

_What?_ Jane stifled her gasp. _How much money does he _have_?_ She glanced into his purse, and frowned.

--

They set off by mid-morning, Gunther easily shouldering their small bundle of supplies. They were walking away from the woods now, into rolling fields tended by peasants with simple tools, but Jane hoped they would find some shade before midday.

Her side ached, dully and persistently, but nothing like as bad as it had last night, and she knew she could grit her teeth and take it. Gunther's long and easy strides threatened to out-pace hers, but Jane soon fell into a comfortable stride of her own, and before long the inn disappeared from view.

Jane had slept soundly through the night, but had woken early in the morning, hounded by a series of troubling thoughts. Gunther leaving without her, while unexpected, was not completely out of character, but without his horse? And why had he left her that arrow, how had he travelled so far, and how did he defeat those wolves? Alone, those questions may have been easy to explain, but combined they led Jane to a disquieting conclusion, one that she hoped was wrong.

Beside her, Gunther raised a hand to shield his eyes and scanned the landscape once again. Jane watched him from the corner of her eye, trying not to think about what it would mean if her theory was right. It was one of the few moments when she knew she would not want to carry out her duty as a knight.

--

"How are you holding up?" Gunther asked, suddenly, after several hours.

"Fine, although I would rather not be walking," returned Jane. "You should have brought your horse." She wondered if she wanted the answers to her questions badly enough to ask for them, or if it would be better to wrap herself in ignorance and hope for the best. But that had never been her way, and she found she couldn't play the coward now, so she fixed her eyes on Gunther and waited for his answer.

"She had not recovered from our last journey, and it would not do to inconvenience the King by taking another horse," he replied, apparently unaware of her scrutiny, but sounding slightly concerned for the beast in question. "Besides, I remembered what Sir Theodore said about staying close to the ground. You can not get much closer than this!"

"I noticed," muttered Jane, wiping away some of the road dust that clung to her sweating forehead. "This would all be so much easier if Dragon was with us."

Gunther glanced at her in surprise. "Are you questioning Sir Theodore's decision?"

"N-no!" Jane was quick to protest. "I was simply . . . ."

"Disagreeing with it," supplied Gunther, and grinned smugly when she coloured.

"While I confess I do not understand _why_ Sir Theodore insisted Dragon stay behind, I respect his decisions." She added under her breath, "Unlike some people."

Gunther ignored this last jab. "Did you actually _tell_ Dragon he was not allowed to come?"

"Of course. Dragon and I keep no secrets from one another."

Gunther, much to Jane's confusion, gave her a strange look. "And he let you come?"

"He was not happy, but, well, he is not my mother! One mother is bad enough; I do not need two fussing about me."

"But it must be nice," Gunther suggested. He sounded almost wistful, Jane thought.

"Knowing that they care, I mean. Not that _I_ care about that sort of stuff." He added quickly.

Now it was Jane's turn to give Gunther an odd look. It had never occurred to her to wonder about Gunther's mother. She supposed he must have had one at some point, after all, who didn't? But dealing with his father from time to time was more than enough, and she had no desire to enquire about the rest of his family.

"It is not that I am ungrateful," she answered slowly, her thoughts returning to her own family. "But Mother needs to realise that I am going to be a knight one day. She cannot protect me forever."

Gunther did not reply, but stared thoughtfully ahead. He was walking in a rather relaxed manner, far too slowly to get him as far as he had yesterday.

"Gunther, how is it you reached the woods ahead of me?"

"Oh, I left at night, and rode as far as the Shale Village junction on the cart of one of my father's traders," he answered easily. "I _am_ sorry that you got hurt following me, Jane. It was not fair of me to leave you behind."

"Why did you? And do not try to tell me it was for my own good! That has never stopped you from crossing swords with me in the past." She gave him a glare, but it was not a very serious one. His answers had all been logical so far, and Jane did not find them impossible to believe. The fact that she _wanted_ to believe him didn't hurt, either.

"We may cross more than mere swords this time, Jane," he said softly, and then shook his head and shrugged. "This is all foolishness. I should not have left without you, and you should not have followed me into those woods at night. Both of us have done unwise things, and it will probably not be the last time."

"You were in those woods too--!" Protested Jane.

"I was resting on the other side when you screamed," he returned, smug once again.

"I did not scream!"

"Oh you did! Like a girl!"

Jane prepared to snap back a reply, when she paused and shook her head. "You may be growing up, Gunther, but some things about you will never change."

Gunther smiled in return, looking pleased by her statement.

--

The rest of the day passed in silence, and Jane smiled gratefully when she saw some trees growing by a creek. The creek itself had been flowing a small way from the road for some distance now, but the land had been cleared, and offered no shelter.

It was only an hour or two before sunset, and Jane's legs, as well as her side, were beginning to protest. She walked towards the trees, almost not caring whether or not Gunther followed her, although she was relieved when he did. She flopped down at the base of one of the trees, and Gunther dropped the bundle beside her, before wandering off to collect dry twigs for a fire. Jane heaved a sigh before getting back to her feet and gathering some stones. She couldn't lie around while Gunther did all the work, but it was annoying that he didn't even seem to be tired.

Jane arranged the stones in a circle, and Gunther built a fire inside them. It was a task that seemed to require more time, effort, and muttering than when Sir Ivon or Sir Theodore performed it, although Jane thought better of pointing that out to Gunther, who beamed proudly when the flame finally took.

He made a tripod of green branches taken from the trees, and Jane hung the pot, partially filled with water, over the fire. Then they broke the rather wilted looking vegetables into small pieces and threw them in. Jane stirred the concoction with a stick, and then looked at Gunther, who shrugged. She supposed that the meal would at least be _interesting_, in a very bland sort of way.

Gunther tossed some more sticks onto the fire before wandering down to the creek. He pulled off his shirt and kneeled on the bank, dunking his head into the water.

Jane pursed her lips and turned back to the pot. She'd bathed at the inn, and obviously would have to wait for a more private location before doing so again. _Maggots_.

Gunther re-emerged with a splash, and Jane waited for him to return to the fire, smug and refreshed. Instead there was another splash, and she glanced over at the creek, only to see a pile of clothes on the bank and a few ripples on the water's surface.

Jane glowered at the flames, and she stirred the vegetables vigorously. Going swimming was _really_ rubbing it in.

"I hope he drowns," she muttered darkly.

He was under for so long that she began to fear he had.

--

Gunther, surrounded by the cool water of the creek, and finally free of the dust and dreariness of the road, was dimly aware that what he was doing was stupid. He knew Jane would not be happy about being left with the cooking, but the enticing flash of colour he'd seen in the sun's dying rays had been too good to resist.

_There you are . . . ._ He darted forwards, hands and feet pushing furiously against the water, and without even thinking about it, closed his mouth around his prey.

The water quickly turned pink.

--

When he finally returned, Jane was standing on the bank, trying not to look anxious. She shot him a glare and turned to go when something wiggling in his hand caught her attention.

"Fish?" She laughed out loud. She'd forgive him almost anything for some fish.

Jane waited by the fire while Gunther waded towards the bank and hit the heads of the fish on the ground, stunning them. He dressed, and then handed them over to Jane.

"Did you bring a knife?" She asked as he stood opposite her, the hot stones of the fire sizzling as his hair dripped on them.

Gunther rummaged around in his pack before drawing out a short dagger. He pushed his hair away from his face with his spare hand as he passed it to her.

Jane smiled as she accepted it, and then quickly decapitated and gutted the fish before dropping them straight onto the fire. Gunther stirred the vegetables as she turned the fish, and then lifted the pot from the fire and tipped out the water, leaving only the vegetables behind. Jane divided the fish between them, and they stuck into the meal without ceremony. The vegetables were soft and edible, but the fish were _delicious_, blackened on the outside but tender on the inside.

There was a loud crack from Gunther's side of the fire, and Jane glanced up in time to see the last piece of his fish vanish before he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and gave her a sheepish grin. Jane smiled back, glad to see he paid as much attention to her mother's lectures on not eating like a starved peasant as she did.

--

The fire crackled and smoke spiralled up into the dark sky as Gunther waited for Jane's breathing to even out. It had taken quite a while to convince her to let him take first watch while she used the blanket, but eventually she had conceded, after making him promise to wake her on time, or at the first sight of trouble.

Gunther stood and stretched, convinced that Jane was fast asleep. He considered simply taking off into the night and leaving her, sure that no predator would come near this clearing after he had spent so much time in it, and that Jane could defend herself against any other threat. She would be able to make it back to the inn by sundown the next day, and be home within three days. But . . . Jane would not go home. She was as stubborn as a stain, and, if he was honest, a better tracker than he. She would follow him long after she should have given up, and even into danger.

Gunther sighed and shook his head, placing his dagger next to Jane just in case, before looking back at the fire. She had come close to death last night because he had left without her, and he knew he would never be able to return to the castle without her, not least because Dragon would burn him to a crisp.

It was troublesome, but abandoning Jane was not an option. However, that didn't mean he couldn't make the most of the night.

After making certain once more that Jane was sleeping soundly, Gunther closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He focused, past the smoke from the fire and the lingering smell of fish, past the scent and sound of Jane, and the stirring of the slight breeze in the surrounding trees, past the trails of animals that been gone for days and humans that had been gone for weeks, past countless strange things that Gunther didn't know but suddenly did, he found the strong stench of decaying flesh, and opened his eyes.

_Ah, yes . . . ._

He wanted to seek out a wizard more than anything, but there was something else he had to do first.

--

**A/N: Sorry sorry! (ducks for cover) It took forever, I know, and I really am sorry about that. Thank KrisEleven and OtakuChild, who encourage and beta read, and are generally just wonderful. If not for them, you would probably still be waiting.**

**This chapter is a bit lacking in action and probably not worth the wait, but something will happen eventually!**


	6. Risk and Revelation

**A/N: Don't shoot!! Heh, another late chapter –sorry! Kris is awesome, as usual. Go give her some love!**

**Jane and the Dragon is © Martin Baynton, Weta and Nelvana.**

---

The horse lay where it had fallen, neck twisted at an irregular angle. Scavengers had already taken its eyes, and Gunther could smell more waiting to feast on the dead beast in the night, but at least it was not Shade, his own horse.

Gunther could not ignore a stab of guilt as he reached for the saddlebags. He doubted that the horse would have leapt if it had only had wolves to contend with.

The food was covered in ants, and he quickly tossed it aside, almost sighing again, in relief. He would take fish every day over the hard biscuits Pepper had invented to last for long journeys. It didn't look like the ants were having much luck with them, either.

Next to be pulled out was a rough map of the roadways surrounding the castle. Gunther had brought his own copy, and he doubted it would be of much use if they continued on in the same direction for much longer, but he pocketed it anyway. After that was one of Jester's juggling stones. Gunther looked at it in disgust before hurling it off into the woods. That'd teach the clown to try and distract a knight when she had a job to do.

The last thing to be withdrawn was Jane's small purse, which he held delicately by one string. He wasn't sure what kind of money she'd brought with her, and wasn't willing to find out.

He dropped the purse back into the saddlebag, and then unstrapped the saddle. It took some heaving, and the smell was enticing rather than repulsive, but Gunther growled under his breath and kept working until he could pull the saddle away from the horse. It was a good saddle, just as the horse had been a good animal, and it seemed a shame to waste both.

He heaved the saddle up into a tree near the path where, with any luck, no one would see it, in the hope of fetching it on the return journey. Maybe by then they'd have another horse for the stable, too. Gunther used a stone to make a small mark in the tree, and then set off at a run. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to get back in time for a few hours of sleep.

---

Jane had washed her face, buried the final few embers of the fire, prepared breakfast and gathered their remaining supplies into a pile by the time Gunther woke up.

He gulped down the bread and cheese, took a long drink of ale, and then shoved their supplies into the blanket-bundle and shouldered it, eager to go. Jane sighed and joined him on the road.

They saw a few more peasants that day, including a farmer ploughing a field. There was a fat horse attached to the equipment, and Jane smiled happily.

"Finally! We can buy that horse."

Gunther gave her an incredulous look. "You would travel a quest on the back of a _plough horse_?"

"It is more practical than travelling on foot," said Jane defiantly, shielding her eyes as the wind changed direction and began stirring up dust.

"We would have to take turns riding," said Gunther. "So we would not travel any faster than we already are. Besides," he added as the horse began rearing, shrieking and pulling at its restraints. "It does not look very well trained. Come on." He began hurrying down the road, and Jane had no choice but to follow him, throwing a concerned glance back at the misbehaving beast.

---

It was warmer that night, although their camp was much less comfortable. There was no dry wood, which meant no fire, which meant bread and cheese for dinner. They ate in silence, laboriously chewing the dry meal. They had finished their ale earlier in the afternoon, and Jane missed it already. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was eating roast meat with seasoned vegetables, dripping with juices and warm from Pepper's fire, but all that did was make the bread taste like dust in her mouth.

Jane took first watch, tossing the blanket at Gunther and promising to wake him in a few hours. He sighed impatiently but laid down on the blanket, tossing a "Good night," over his shoulder before falling asleep.

Jane sat huddled against the cold and stared into the growing darkness. The moon rose, a cold sliver against the night sky. The night was quiet, almost impossibly so, as though she and Gunther were the only living things for miles. Jane rubbed her arms as they turned to gooseflesh, and shivered, trying to convince herself it was only from the cold.

---

Jane woke with a start at the sound of someone approaching, but it was only Gunther, with a dead rabbit in his hand and a smug smile on his face.

He dropped his bow and arrows, and then set about skinning and gutting his catch. "We can cook it as soon as we find enough wood to make a fire."

Jane nodded and gratefully packed the last of the bread and cheese into the blanket. Roast rabbit for breakfast would beat that any day.

---

It was another hot day, and they didn't find any dry wood until it was almost midday. But the rabbit cooked well, and they both laid down in the shade with full stomachs. Jane supposed they would only rest for a few minutes before setting off again, and started in surprise when Gunther began snoring softly beside her.

He had one hand over his eyes, and the other resting on his stomach. His hair, tied in a loose ponytail, was spread out beneath him, and Jane smiled as she plucked a blade of grass from it. When it came down to it, she could not help feeling concerned for the squire.

He may have been her rival, but Jane wondered if she would have tried so hard to be a successful knight if he had not been. She could still remember all the times she had worried about what Gunther would think of her if she made a mistake, or failed at a task, or wasn't strong enough to handle a new weapon. If she thought he would laugh at herr, she'd always try harder. She wasn't sure what had made his opinion so important to her, but maybe it was because he was not afraid to be blunt with her. While Jester and the others would be kind, Gunther would be honest. Well, mostly, anyway.

Jane smiled again and flicked away the piece of grass before standing up and brushing herself off. She busied herself, as quietly as possible, with burying the fire and packing up the small mess they'd made. Grabbing up the blanket, she hissed in pain and drew her hand back to find a small twig wedged under her nail. She gingerly pulled it out, and then sucked on the injured digit, the metallic tang of blood mixing with the after-taste of roast rabbit.

Behind her, Gunther woke with a start and sat up. "Jane? What is it . . . ?" He trailed off as she pulled her finger from her mouth, another drop of blood forming and spilling over the edge of her nail, and his forehead began to glisten with sweat.

Jane frowned at his expression and glanced down at her hand. "It is only a little blood."

He was gone when she looked back up.

---

In a small hollow in the side of one of the many surrounding fields, Gunther crouched with his head in his hands. He was trying very hard to form a coherent thought, but his mind constantly returned to one thing; Jane's blood. Not even the rabbit he'd gutted earlier that day had tempted him so much. He'd been able to stop himself from simply eating the whole thing raw, but this was another matter entirely. Just that single drop had almost turned him, then and there, and he was sure he could still smell it; certain he could still see it. He'd never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted that blood. He wanted to tear her open and lap up every last drop, then swallow up her innards and suck the marrow from her bones. He wanted—

"No I do not!" Gunther screamed, punching the ground. He stared at his hand as the ugly thoughts swirled in his brain.

_You do, you do, you_ do. _You _need_ to._

The dirt beneath his fingers seemed to turn red, and Gunther squeezed his hand around it, before releasing it with a yell and shoving his hand into his mouth.

There was a crack, and Gunther whimpered, but kept his jaw locked around his hand as blood trickled down his arm. It hurt, but the pain offered some distraction, and there was no satisfaction in the taste. _Jane would taste no different,_ he told himself, relieved, as his chest stopped heaving and his heart began to slow its thundering.

"Gunther? Are you alright?"

Gunther froze as he heard Jane stop behind him, a small distance away. He gingerly removed his hand and licked the blood from his lips before standing up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I heard you yelling." She took another step forward. "Why did you run off like that?"

He spun around, keeping the hand out of view behind his back as he faced her. There was an uncomfortable itching sensation as the bones knit together and the holes closed over. He closed his eyes briefly in relief when he realised that the smell of blood had weakened; apparently the wound had already stopped bleeding.

"I, uh, call of nature." He shrugged apologetically, placed his hand by his side, and began walking back towards the road.

Behind him, Jane frowned in confusion at the small bloodstain on the back of his shirt.

---

They travelled on for a week, beyond the farmland and into untamed regions, where the roads were narrow and the going hard. Jane was growing more and more frustrated as they seemed to be no closer to reaching their goal. No one they talked to was able to answer their questions, and she was beginning to wonder if it really _was_ a waste of time.

And, although she would never say so out loud, Jane was beginning to miss home. Her soft bed, the warm kitchen where Pepper always had something to eat, her friends, and, although she cringed at the thought, her parents. But she missed Dragon most of all. She could talk to Dragon; say what she needed to say when she needed to say it. And she could be angry around him, or ridiculously happy, or even a little bit crazy without ever worrying what he would think. And oh, how she missed flying. The knowledge that she could have travelled the same distance in half a day with Dragon was truly infuriating. They were still on foot, and, it seemed to Jane, going nowhere very, _very_ slowly.

Gunther seemed to be angry about their lack of progress too, although it was hard to be sure. Lately he had been angry about everything.

Jane's concern for Gunther had been growing with each day, as he distanced himself from her more and more. He always walked several meters ahead, and rarely ever spoke. He'd always been aloof, Jane knew, but this was more than that. Denial was getting her nowhere.

Sitting by the fire one night, legs aching after yet another day of walking, Jane studied Gunther as they ate their dinner. It was a cool night, and he was farther from the fire than he needed to be, slightly turned away from her as he crouched on his haunches, tearing into the pheasant he had apparently caught nesting, and staring at the ground, deep in thought.

Neither of them had had a chance to bathe in a while now, and Jane supposed she smelled pretty bad, but Gunther looked positively feral, with his hair dishevelled, and in need of a shave.

_He's not even trying anymore_, she realised, and the thought frightened her more than her original comprehension had.

"I know you were bitten." The fire snapped as she spoke, as though in warning.

Startled, he looked at her, his gaze sharp and intense.

Jane took a deep breath before continuing. "By that werewolf you had to kill."

He blinked, and his eyes seemed duller, less focused and more familiar. "I should have known you would figure it out," he said, tiredly. "How?"

Jane shrugged. "You have not been yourself lately. No insults, no teasing, you have not even been complaining! You have been taking off during your watch for at least the last few nights, probably more. You will not go near a horse, even though riding would make our journey a lot easier. You have been catching fish, pheasants, even rabbits without any weapons." She paused. "I counted your arrows. You have not used any. All those things were obvious, but actually it was a small thing that has been bothering me for a while now."

Gunther looked at her curiously, and Jane almost had to smile.

"You refused change from the people at the inn. The coins would have been silver."

Gunther gave her a wry smile, before cracking open a small bone and sucking out the marrow. He tossed it onto the fire and stared thoughtfully at the flames for a while. Silence settled over their camp, before he stood up and began walking away from the firelight. He paused to speak, but didn't turn around.

"You have the arrow, and I will not blame you if you use it."

"Gunther!" Jane jumped to her feet. "You Beef-Brain! If there is a cure, we will find it. I swear on the Knights' Code."

"And if there is not?" Gunther turned to face her then, and fear prickled along Jane's spine as she searched for an answer but found none. He gave her a small smile before turning away again. "Get some sleep; I will be back in the morning."

---

**A/N: I have to confess; I've just gone and re-read all the reviews you guys have left me. They're lovely and you rock, so thanks heaps for your ongoing support. I know the slow progress is a little trying, and I apologise.**


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